


==> Sollux: Take a break from yourself

by StubbornDodecahedron



Series: Hot Disaster Dumbass Factory [9]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Begging, Buckets (Homestuck), Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Consent, Creampie, Dirty Talk, M/M, Nook Eating (Homestuck), Nook Fingering (Homestuck), Recreational Drug Use, Sheath Play, Size Kink, seedflap penetration, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StubbornDodecahedron/pseuds/StubbornDodecahedron
Summary: the nasty parts of ch 35can be read standaloneExposition for standalone reading:  Sollux has recently been released from the psychiatric hospital but is still having a tough time and seeks out Gamzee to help him take his mind off things for a while. Note that Sollux is recovering from mobility and speech issues as a result of a mental breakdown, but it is only a minor detail and won't distract from the work if you're reading this out of context from the main story.
Relationships: Sollux Captor/Gamzee Makara
Series: Hot Disaster Dumbass Factory [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275281
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	==> Sollux: Take a break from yourself

==> Sollux: Take a break from yourself

You have your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist when Gamzee dumps you onto his bed. His hand lingers on the leg you still have hooked over his hip, running up your thigh as he leans down to kiss you. It’s fevered but not rushed, and has you chirping and clumsily threading your fingers through wavy locks as it deepens. His hand moves higher, slipping under your shirt where nails run lightly over your skin, making you shiver and arch into his touch.

He’s close to you but you want him closer. Just as you’re thinking it, he pulls away, straightening up from where he was hunched over the edge of the bed. If your thinksponge wasn’t soaked in THC you may have thought of something witty to come at him with. Instead, you just give his collar a good tug with your psionics. Gamzee darts his tongue out to wet his lips as he looks down at you, your dazed half-lidded eyes, arms askew, shirt hiked up on the one side, legs hanging off the edge of the bed to either side of his. He inhales sharply through his sniffnode and the world starts moving again. In one fluid motion, he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor before helping you out of yours. And just like that, he’s close again, body pressed against yours, mouthing at your neck and nipping at your collar. You run your hands over his back, basking in the feeling of his skin against yours, relishing in the sensation of touching and being touched, letting yourself drown in his presence.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good. Empty your pan of every thought what making you inharmonious," he says with a roll of his hips that has your bulges stirring in your sheath, swollen but only just beginning to emerge. You press back eagerly and a soft noise hums in your throat, urging him to keep going. "Pail you till all you got up there is motherfuckin melodics." His voice rumbles in his chest when he speaks like that, low and close and heavy with desire.

"Please." You hook your legs around his for leverage as you rock against him. He pulls you forward by your hips and even though it isn't by much, it makes a world of difference as you grind against each other. The pace you find is slow but perfectly in sync. It feels so good. He feels so good. You give him every ounce of your focus. You push everything aside until all that's left is him and what he's doing to you. His teeth graze your neck, aware of its hypersensitivity as you approach the peak of your high, before he sucks on your pulse. Your hips rise to meet his and your nook tightens around nothing when his bulge runs over it through far too many layers of fabric.

"You good on me eating your nook like it's a motherfucking slime pie right out the oven?" You don't know if it's intentional but Gamzee chooses that moment to lick a strip up your neck, advertising the normally creepy length of his tongue that has suddenly become more appealing. So much more appealing that you can feel yourself getting wetter just thinking about having it inside you.

"Yeah." He smiles and moves lower, sliding down your body to kiss your stomach before undoing your pants and discarding the last of your clothing on the floor. Getting high has certainly helped, but you've only been out of the hospital for like a week, moving still isn't the easiest thing, so you almost entirely use your psionics to prop yourself up onto your forearms. Even then you aren't truly leaning on them. However, you can't seem to care too deeply about it right now, not with the way Gamzee is on his knees in front of you, running his hands up your thighs and biting his lip. He spreads your legs slowly and admires your nook with a look that drips with want.

"Man, your being all slick as hell down here for me, fucking hot." He takes your bulges loosely in one hand and then suddenly licks a long line from your nook all the way up. The most indecent series of half-purred clicks emits from your throat. You barely register that you’re laying back down again when he gives his attention to your bulges, mouthing them and lavishing them with his tongue. He can't suck them with the way his teeth interlock, but that tongue is a fucking gift. You arch into his touch for more but he only teases you, slowly stroking your bulges and taking his time licking the sensitive outer edges of your nook. The tip of his tongue unintentionally dips ever so slightly into your sheath and you feel your face go hot with the thought of where else he could be putting it to use. You're on the verge of attempting to vocalize that but get cut off by a sharp breath that trails into a moan. The feeling of finally having something in your nook makes you go tight and has Gamzee humming a sound of satisfaction. He licks deeper, taking his time to savor the feeling before pulling away to speak. "Bet you ain’t having any idea just how good you taste. Could get up in that all motherfuckin night." To emphasize his point he dips his tongue inside you again. You’re almost tempted to shut up and just let him eat you out, but you’re depraved so you try to get your squawk box working.

"Yyou can put it, in-- in my sheath too." It comes out shaky and stuttered but you get the words out all the same, which is more than you've managed in weeks.

"For real?" he asks, a little surprised, while letting your bulges curl between his fingers. "Was thinkin you maybe had a side what be devious." There's a smirk on his face. You think perhaps Gamzee has thought of this before. There's zero hesitation in the way he brings your bulges downward, holding them together and out of the way so he can slip his tongue between them. You twist up the blanket above your head as he starts pressing inside, gently back and forth, and then with more pressure until his tongue gets past the initial tightness and plunges inside you. Your hips rise and a high pitched moan escapes your throat, turning into a series of whimpers when Gamzee begins slowly fucking your sheath with his tongue, in and out, opening you up, thrusting deeper and deeper, until he reaches the sensitive spot where your bulge splits. You free one of your hands from the blanket and tangle your fingers in his hair instead, moaning his name as he works you over, as he alternates between tongue fucking you and teasing the split of your bulge. You already feel so full when he presses two fingers inside you. It nearly has you pailing right then and there.

“Close. So close,” You say in a hushed airy voice. He hums in acknowledgment, and you can feel it in the best of ways. The sudden absence of his fingers is disappointing, but it’s followed by a metallic sound and you realize he’s blindly feeling around for a pail under his bed. He picks up where he left off and then some, thrashing his fingers inside you, going straight for your shameglobes while he tongues your sheath in long strokes that feel so much deeper than they could possibly be. You hold his head down as you start to tense and he fucking moans and it’s more than you can take. A shudder grips you and you pail, hard, through shaky chirps that get abruptly interrupted when you gasp. Gamzee withdraws from your sheath and the sensation of your bulges rushing the rest of the way out is almost too much.

He slows his movements as you start to come down but instead of stopping he replaces his fingers with his tongue, running it over the hypersensitive entrance of your nook, lapping up your genetic material, and licking as deep inside as he can get. Your nook squeezes tight around his tongue and one last spike of pleasure jolts through you.

You lightly push Gamzee’s head back and he kisses the inside of your thigh before standing up. There’s a shuffling sound that you don’t really care about and then he comes to sit beside you while you lie there panting and basking in afterglow. He pets your head gently. You answer it with a tired trill, but you don’t open your eyes until you hear the flick of a lighter. He smiles and playfully blows smoke at you, then takes another hit, pulling it hard and holding it in for what feels like a long time before letting the smoke escape to the ceiling. The next one is smaller and he doesn’t hold it for long before leaning over. You tug him closer with your psionics and crane your neck up to meet his lips. He keeps kissing you well after passing you the hit. Slow brushes of lips. A thumb gently caressing your jaw. You can taste yourself in his mouth and have little doubt that he’s probably getting off on it if the way he smirks and shoves his tongue in your mouth is any indication.

“You good on keeping going? If I got you all up and spent, I ain’t mind taking care of this,” he practically coos as he presses a kiss to the crook of your jaw. It’s then that you realize his pants are gone and his bulge is tangled up in his fingers. You put a hand to his arm and lightly run your claws back and forth over his skin, watching the way it has him blinking slowly and taking in a lengthy breath.

"Fuck me." You don't need to ask twice. He makes a deep chirr and nips your neck before scooping you up and depositing you rightways on the bed. Your head hits the pillow with a soft 'floof' only a second before he's on top of you. Immediately your bulges are waking back up to coil with his, giving you a vivid reminder of just how big he is.

“Your nook maybe wicked wetslick velvet what most lubricious for me but I still gotta be making sure I ain’t hurt you none,” he whispers close. You nod against his neck and hold him tighter as he slips two fingers inside you. His movements are agonizingly slow and far too careful.

“More,” You say the words against his skin before taking your teeth to it. It’s a gentle bite that you quickly soothe over, a means of conveying the thought that’s too complex for you to voice right now, that he doesn’t have to be quite that delicate with you. He hums a moan against your temple and rolls his hips in time with the way he presses another digit inside, stretching you just a bit more for him. You grip his back and grind down on his fingers as a wholly indecent sound leaves your mouth. You muffle it into his shoulder, then tug his head to the side by one of his horns so you can better suck and nip at his neck. It makes him shudder. You lick a long line up his tendon; he presses deeper. You suck harder, doubtlessly leaving marks but not caring because it pulls desperate red chirps from his throat. He moves faster. You pull his face out of your shoulder and kiss him hard and deep, sucking on his bottom lip before breaking away to speak so close that your lips still brush against his. “Gamzee.” You have all of his attention; he’s hanging on your every word. “Get in me.”

He kisses you with such fervor that your teeth clack.

“Gonna give you my bulge so good.” In a blink, you’re on your stomach and Gamzee is putting a pillow under your hips. He’s going to fuck you from behind. You angle yourself for him and hear a series of trilled clicks precede the feeling of the tip of his bulge slipping inside you. It’s quickly followed by a sharp draw of air. “Your nook on being hotter than the motherfucking sun, pulling me into its warmth like the miracles what magnetizing fate strings.” You whine at what has the potential to be a long-winded delay and it makes him chuckle, but he does relent and give you what you want. He let’s go of himself, letting his bulge freely enter you while he comes down to press his body against your back and wrap his arm possessively across your chest. He isn’t in all the way, he hasn’t even started thrusting, and already you feel his bulge filling you up and stretching you open. Your nook clenches around him. Gamzee kisses the back of your neck and coos at you, urging you to relax. He pulls out just a bit, then presses back inside, gently rocking his hips, getting you used to his girth little by little. Shallow thrusts that get deeper and deeper, filling you more and more.

“It’s so much,” you manage to get out between soft gasps and muffled whimpers. He feels so good and you want him to know it but the words are hard to reach.

“Yeah? My bulge got you filled up in the way what makes you feeling lascivious?” You don’t know that word but the way he says it makes you think he’s asking if it turns you on. You nod and roll your hips back into his, trying to relax more so you can take him deeper.

“So big.”

“Hmmh,” You can feel him laugh behind a smile against your spine. “I ain’t about disagreeing but…” he pulls out almost all the way before slowly sinking back inside you, making you feel every inch you’ve been able to take so far, and then keeps going deeper. A choked moan catches in your throat. “Your nook kinda on the side what smaller.” He holds himself there and shivers when your nook flutters around him, responding to the way his bulge is thrashing and twisting inside you. “Not in the way on being shallow,” he continues. “You’re motherfucking tight.” He presses a gentle kiss to your neck. “Prolly them bulges you twice blessed with making miracles twofold up in you.” You’ve never thought of it quite like that. You buck back against him what little you can like this, urging him to continue. Instead, he pulls out. You growl a whine at the feeling of suddenly being so empty again, but your complaining doesn’t last long because he’s only shifting his position and adjusting the pillow under your hips which proves to be well worth the momentary loss.

You moan his name as he slips back inside and pails you in slow, deep, drawn-out thrusts; finally giving you his entire length. The way it curls when he’s fully sheathed inside you presses against all of your most sensitive places and makes you cry out every time he goes deep. He’s making you feel so good, so full, so in the moment and away from everything else. His scent wraps around you, clouding your already hazey pan. You're lost in sensation and sound; the steady asynchronous motion of your hips rocking together, the cool heavy weight of his body against your heated skin, the chirps and moans he doesn’t hold back that send a shiver down your spine. It’s exactly where you want to be with exactly who you want to be here with. His hand slides from your side down slowly over sensitive skin to rest low on your abdomen where he can feel himself inside you.

“So warm,” he whispers, momentarily holding you tighter as he rocks into you. His bulge presses up against your seedflap as he bottoms out. “Could be making you my bucket and you’d still be heating me up plenty after taking the load I got what to give you.” Your dual bulges twist up with each other and your nook pulses at the thought. Gamzee practically growls with how low he purrs. “You like that? You getting your squeeze on me like you want my slurry all up in you.” You try to speak but Gamzee’s bulge curls in just the right place to melt your words and all that comes out is a gasp that trails into a whimper. “This where you want me?” he asks, applying more pressure to where he has his hand on your abdomen, to where he would be able to feel the slight swell of your material sack if he came in your nook, but even more so if you let him outright fuck your seedflap, if you let him fill you like a shameless unquadrented slut. “You wanna be my bucket?” His thrusts start to come faster. Your bulges writhe and twist against each other until a particularly hard thrust shifts the both of you just right for them to find Gamzee’s wrist and coil tight around it. You try your voice again.

“Yes. Fuck, yes. Please,” you practically beg, breathlessly through dazed moans. The request is obscene, as is the sound Gamzee makes when he slams his hips flush to your nook. His bulge prods at your seedflap and has you choking out a high pitched moan when you feel it yield for him, slowly and then all at once. He's so deep, he can get so deep inside you.

“Fuck,” he moans, arching his back and unfurling the arm wrapped across your chest to seek out your hand and knit his fingers through yours. For a split second his grip loosens as if he might pull it back, but you close your fingers around his, keeping his hand over top of yours. It’s so intimate and needy and red, it’s so fucking red, and you know this is crossing all sorts of lines, but you don’t care. You need this. You need your senses drowning in stimuli, numbing you to anything except the feeling of him, his touch, his scent, the panted breaths falling against your back from where he has his forehead pressed to your shoulder. You need him holding you close like this, making all those low chirrs and groans while he tenderly pails you within an inch of your life.

His movements become more erratic and Gamzee starts talking to you in rushed heavy breaths. He tells you how tight and slick and warm your nook is, how you’re doing so good for him, how you’re going to make him pail so hard, and how he has so much genetic material to give you. Each filthy sentence pushes you closer and closer. When you finally get your mouth to wrap around enough words to answer him, you tell him to come inside you, desperate whispers over and over begging him to come inside you, to please, please, fill your nook, until you’re cut off by a gasp and a crackle of psionics.

You’re a mess of chirps and whimpers as your climax hits you, body shaking, nook quivering, tensed so tight around him that every thrust feels like he’s opening you up all over again. Gamzee follows only a few seconds later. He grips your hand tight and holds you still as he sinks his length deep into your nook, pushing past your seedflap before pailing inside you. You can feel his bulge pulse and twitch as you take it, gush after gush of cool slurry filling you up.

For a long moment, he holds his hips flush to your entrance, keeping you in place with the hand he has pressed to your abdomen. Hushed hitched moans leave you through barely parted lips, mirroring the sounds melting into your shoulder while your nook gradually ceases to flutter around him and the swell of his bulge lessens. Then It’s quiet, save for the sound of you both catching your breath. Genetic material spills down your thighs and drips from your nook, even more so when Gamzee finally pulls out. He kisses your neck before falling onto the bed and pulling you closer to bask with him in the remaining haze of afterglow.

Eventually, though, you do have to get up. You are very much in need of a bucket. Gamzee helps you closer to the edge of the bed and pulls you into his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face in his neck while he gently coaxes more of his slurry out of you, slowly fingering your overstimulated nook until, with a thoroughly spent shudder, you spill a mix of your genetic material into the bucket below. Like a gentleman, he asks if you want some water. You give a tired nod that doesn’t reflect the drought currently happening in your mouth. It’s a miracle that you aren’t passed out by the time he comes back with a glass in one hand and a towel in the other. 

You aren’t sure if it’s even that late when you curl up next to him, exhausted and without a single thought in your head beyond the pleasant soreness setting in and how nice it feels to be wrapped in his embrace. The way he’s purring, low and soft and sweet, is quickly lulling you to sleep. In the hazy ebb and flow of your fading consciousness, you find yourself answering it with an affectionate sound of your own.


End file.
